


Parenthood

by elsaunfiltered



Series: Shadows to Light [2]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017), Riverdale (TV 2017) RPF
Genre: Coda, Coda to Darkest Hour, F/M, Morning Sickness, New Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsaunfiltered/pseuds/elsaunfiltered
Summary: One-shot coda to Darkest Hour- picks up two months after DH's epilogue ended. (Darkest Hour should be read first)Betty and Jughead adjust to the struggles of parenthood, relying on one another during times of exhaustion and insecurity.





	Parenthood

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all again for your unyielding support for Darkest Hour. I appreciated all of your comments and kudos, and I really appreciate all of the anonymous readers on Tumblr begging me for a coda. I wasn't planning on writing one so soon, but the hype really inspired me and I am very grateful! <3

Jughead jerks awake as he feels his mattress dip down and quickly spring back up. Blearily, he glances at the clock and reads that it’s 4:06 in the morning, approximately two hours since he last looked at the harshly glowing red numbers. He hears a rapid shuffling of feet and is then blinded by the light to his and Betty’s bathroom as his wife hurries into it. The sound of retching comes from the illuminated room and he sighs, swinging his legs out of bed.

Jughead quickly crosses their bedroom and enters the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub and rubbing his heaving wife’s back gently. Luckily, her hair is already in a knot on the top of her head (out of habit at this point, he supposes), and once her small frame finishes lurching the contents of her stomach into the toilet, she lets out a small sob and turns to rest her face in his lap.

“Shh,” he murmurs, stroking her head gently. “It’s okay, Betts.” As he sits on the edge of the tub, he feels his eyes begin to cross; in the last two months, he doesn’t remember a time when he got more than two or three consecutive hours of sleep, and he’s absolutely certain Betty hasn’t. Having a colicky newborn is bad enough without dealing with the side effects of the first trimester, and unfortunately for his wife, her pregnancy has been ruthless thus far.

Betty takes several deep breaths and peers up at Jughead, her green eyes pleading. “I thought this was supposed to stop at fourteen weeks,” she moans, doubling over slightly.

“Me too, love,” Jughead replies quietly, continuing to stroke her hair, “but you have a few days left until you’re officially fourteen weeks, so maybe it’ll take a little longer.”

Betty heaves a great sigh and nods. She remains on the bathroom floor for a moment, obviously weighing whether or not she’s finished vomiting, and once she concludes that she is, she stands up shakily, using Jughead’s legs as support.

Jughead wraps his arm around his wife’s waist, and after she brushes her teeth, he slowly leads her back to bed. She sighs, dropping onto the mattress heavily, and curls up into a tight ball, hugging her midsection.

Crawling back into bed, Jughead climbs across the king-sized mattress and wraps his arms around Betty. She has been so strong through the last two months; though parenthood has been everything they wanted and more, it has not been without its struggles.

Betty’s camisole has slipped up a bit, exposing her slightly-rounded abdomen, and Jughead runs his fingers across the soft skin.

“And I thought chemo nausea was bad,” Betty grumbles sleepily, leaning back to Jughead’s embrace.

“You’re superwoman, Betts,” Jughead murmurs into the back of her neck. “Just think, six months from now, we’re going to have two beautiful children when we didn’t think we’d be able to have any.”

“You’re right,” his wife replies, sighing happily. “It’s all about perspective. I can’t wait.”

Jughead closes his eyes, continuing to stroke Betty’s growing belly. He knows she’s already becoming self-conscious about the bump, especially considering that only the two of them know she’s pregnant for now, but he can’t get enough of it. The prospect of their second child growing as they simply lay there is incredible to him.

Eventually, Betty’s breathing becomes slow and rhythmic and Jughead’s eyes become heavy, and still curled around his wife, he slowly drifts off to sleep…

…until a screeching wail sounds over the baby monitor.

Once again, blue and green eyes snap awake.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Betty says miserably. It sounds like she’s on the verge of tears again, and Jughead knows that he has to intervene for the sake of his wife’s sanity.

“I’ve got it this time, Betts,” Jughead tells her, jumping out of bed before giving his wife the option of getting up. He blearily walks down the hall to his daughter’s room, following the sound of the crying. He has to admit, for such a small body, she’s got an impressive set of lungs.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he says, bending over the side of the crib and pulling the crying infant into his arms. “What’s going on, you hungry?”

Equipped with the screaming baby, Jughead walks down the hallway to the fridge and is thrilled to see Betty already has formula mixed and in bottles waiting to be placed in the warmer.

“Your mom’s the best, you know that?” he asks the small, brown-haired, blue eyed baby. He knows that all babies are born with blue eyes, but hers are such a striking color that he wonders whether or not hers will remain that way even after she reaches six months of age.

As he waits on the bottle warmer, he slowly rocks Samantha in his arms, murmuring to her, and the baby girl slowly but surely begins to quiet down. She still seems upset, more than likely the product of an empty stomach, but the attention she’s receiving seems to have calmed her a bit.

The warmer dings, and Jughead grabs the bottle and takes it and the baby back to her room to feed her in the rocking chair, which was custom made for Samantha by Fred Andrews within a week of her homecoming. Jughead leans back in the chair, rocking quietly while his daughter devours her bottle. He stares down at her as she feeds, her blue eyes meeting his as she drinks away.

“You’re just like me,” he tells her. “When you gotta eat, you gotta eat. We can’t help that the Jones stomach isn’t satisfied unless full. If I couldn’t feed myself, I ‘d be screaming too.”

As the eight-week-old continues to drink, he pauses, suddenly wonderstruck by his daughter. Every once in a while, and especially when sleep deprived, the surreal events of the past eight weeks come rushing forward, from getting the call from the adoption agency to Betty telling him she’s pregnant, and he experiences overwhelming surges of emotion. The new father finds himself suddenly blinking back tears while staring down at the baby.

“You are so incredible, Sammy girl,” he murmurs to her, completely in awe. “You’ve made every minute of our long wait worth it, and you’re going to be the best big sister.” Since bringing her home two months ago, every moment he has spent with his daughter has been astounding. Sure, sleep is a thing of the past, and he’s never been this exhausted in his life, but every second spent with his bundle of joy has been worth it.

Twenty minutes later, Samantha’s eyes begin to droop and she lets the bottle fall from her mouth, signifying that she’s done (for now). Jughead places her on the changing table, taking advantage of her food coma to do a quick diaper change before swaddling her and placing her back on the mattress of her crib. Before going back to his and Betty’s room, he stands by the crib, staring down at his daughter’s sleeping form.

 _His daughter_.

Even now, it is still mind-blowing to Jughead that this tiny being, this little person, is his to raise and nurture. The thought is terrifying to him; there are so many things for him to mess up along the way, and though he has never doubted Betty’s ability to be an incredible mother, he’s not certain that he himself will make a good father. Though he and his dad are now closer than they’ve ever been, that was not the case when he was growing up. In fact, it really took Betty being diagnosed with cancer for the two of them to develop a healthy father-son relationship. He has no idea what the role of the father is during the early childhood years; he never experienced it himself and doesn’t really have anything to base it upon; his own father had been startlingly absent during his younger years. Jughead supposes he could think back to Fred Andrews raising Archie, but that involved a lot of sports, which is certainly not alluring to him.

“Juggie?”

 Jughead turns around to see Betty leaning against the door frame. She looks beautiful, her small bump looking especially pronounced in the shadows cast by their daughter’s night light.

“I thought you would be asleep,” he whispers to her, pulling her into his arms. He kisses the top of her head and pulls back, his tired blue eyes meeting her exhausted green ones.

“I could hear you talking to her over the monitor,” Betty replies quietly, giving him a slight, loving smile.

“Sorry, Betts. I forgot to turn it off,” he says guiltily. “I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“It’s okay.” She takes his hand and leads him out of Samantha’s room, cracking the door behind them. “You are an incredible dad, Jughead Jones.”

Jughead’s stomach lurches and he looks down at Betty affectionately. “Thanks, Betts. You’re a pretty amazing mom yourself.”

They walk back into their room and Betty sighs, getting back into bed for what seems like the tenth time that night. She nestles into Jughead’s chest, her left leg draped over his. “I don’t feel like a good mom sometimes, Jug. This whole ‘parenting’ thing is so much harder than I thought it would be. We tried so hard for so long just to have kids that I never actually thought about what it would be like after we actually had one, and now we’re going to have two.”

Jughead snorts. “You’re preaching to the choir, Betts. But if anyone can do it, it’s us, okay? We’ve been through a lot together, and if time has taught me anything, it’s that we’re unstoppable.”

Betty responds with a happy sigh, and within a minute, she has fallen fast asleep on his chest. Jughead smiles, kissing the top of her blonde head. His eyes are heavy as they glance at the clock and read that it’s 5:30 AM. By his estimation, they have about two hours, three tops, before they are awoken to the hurricane that is a hangry Samantha Jones.

 

* * *

 

 By some small miracle, Samantha does not wake up until after Betty and Jughead do the next morning. Jughead wakes to the sun shining through their bedroom window, and when he glances at the clock, he is shocked to see that it’s almost 9:30. Four consecutive hours of sleep is a new record in the Jones household.

However, as if some outside force senses that too much rest is happening, Betty’s phone begins to ring, waking her up from a deep sleep. Jughead fumes internally; everyone knows they have a newborn, and though they don’t know about the baby on the way, they should still know better than to call in the morning hours.

“Hello?” she answers groggily. There’s a pause before, “hey, V. No, I was awake, just dozing. 

‘ _Liar,’_ Jughead thinks wryly.

Betty listens to her friend for several moments before cutting her eyes over to Jughead. “Veronica wants to know if we would rather do dinner at her house tonight instead of ours so we don’t have to worry about cooking or cleaning.”

 _Shit, dinner_. The lack of sleep had caused Jughead to temporarily forget. Tonight is the night that he and Betty are going to tell their friends and family that they have another baby on the way. Betty’s OBGYN has assured the couple that they are out of the most common danger zone with regard to miscarriages, and as his wife pointed out, it would only be a matter of time before Alice begins noticing the gentle swell of her stomach.

Jughead looks into Betty’s pale, tired face, and can tell that she would much rather move the dinner to Veronica and Archie’s house. Not only does she appear too exhausted to host a dinner, Jughead doesn’t know how she will possibly prepare the meal without becoming physically ill. Though it is typically worse during the morning hours, Betty’s nausea also tends to peak while dealing with food.

“That sounds great, Betts,” he tells her, bending down to place a chaste kiss on her mouth. He leaves her on the phone with her best friend to sort out a menu and ventures down the hall to check on Samantha. Jughead finds her fast asleep, her tiny body still encased in her ‘baby burrito’ as he likes to call it, and he then weighs whether or not to go make breakfast or go back to bed.

Breakfast wins, though by a much slimmer margin than usual.

 

* * *

 

“Juggie, have you seen the diaper bag?”

Jughead jerks awake, momentarily disoriented. He’s sitting up on the couch, his head at an uncomfortable angle on his shoulder. Glancing at his watch, he sees that it’s 5:30 and almost time to head to Archie and Veronica’s home.

“Yeah, Betts, it’s on the floor in the laundry room,” he says groggily, rubbing at the crick in his neck. He glances up to see a distressed-looking Betty walking through the living room towards the laundry room, Samantha tucked into her arms.

“Here, I’ll take her,” Jughead says, standing up and taking the infant from his wife.

“Thanks, Jug,” Betty replies, rubbing her face. “Everything takes ten times longer when you have a baby.”

Jughead smiles. “I haven’t been much help either. I fell asleep on the couch.”

“I saw that,” Betty laughs. “You looked so peaceful though, I didn’t want to disturb you. Plus, it wasn’t long. Forty-five minutes at the most.”

“How are you feeling?” Jughead asks, glancing down at Samantha’s sleeping face.

Betty frowns and shrugs. “Not great. I’m not sure how I’m going to eat, but I’ll try.”

“Well, you look beautiful,” he tells his wife, bending down to place a swift kiss on her lips. She’s wearing jeans and a tunic top that conceals her bump. “I’ll see what I can do about making you feel better later tonight,” he adds, giving her a suggestive wink.

“I hope I don’t fall asleep halfway through,” Betty giggles, giving him a brief hug before tracking down the diaper bag and making sure it’s fully stocked for their outing.

Twenty minutes later, the family of three (and a half) is on the road to the Andrews residence. Once Archie and Veronica found out Veronica was pregnant with their son, Hunter, they moved from the Pembrooke and into a larger home on the outskirts of Riverdale, very close to Jughead and Betty’s neighborhood. It is an old white farmhouse, complete with columns and a wraparound front porch on several acres of land. As a gift to Archie and Veronica, Mr. and Mrs. Lodge had paid for them to gut the entire inside of the house before moving in, so though the house has a rustic appearance, everything is new and up to the Lodge standard on the inside.

Jughead pulls into the driveway and Betty glances at him nervously, her bottom lip between her teeth. He can tell by the look on her face she’s feeling uneasy about telling everyone the news tonight.

“Betty, we don’t have to say anything tonight,” he tells her, reaching across to hold her hand. “You can take your time and we can tell them when we’re ready.”

Betty looks at him, her eyebrows knit together in the middle. “What if we tell them and then things go wrong?” she whispers fearfully. She rubs her other hand across her midsection unconsciously.

“Everything is going to be fine,” he assures her. “The doctors told us everything looks perfect and that we can start telling close friends and family, Betts. They wouldn’t have told us that if they think anything looked abnormal.” 

Betty gives him a small smile. “You’re right,” she whispers. “I’m just nervous. This all seems too good to be true, Sammy included.”

Jughead glances to the back seat where their daughter is fast asleep in her car seat. “Everything is perfect, Betts,” he murmurs, and he means it.  He has never been happier.

They get out of the car and Jughead detaches the baby carrier from the car seat. Together, they walk up to the large farmhouse and Veronica opens the door before they can knock.

“Hi, Jones family!” she cries, throwing her arms around Betty. She bends over the carrier Jughead has in his arms and fondly strokes the light brown hair on Samantha’s small head. “Hi, Sammy,” she whispers to the sleeping infant.

“Hey, V,” Betty grins, turning to look at the sleeping baby with her friend.

“How are you?” Veronica asks, whisking them into the farmhouse’s impressive foyer. The dark hardwood floors shine, and Jughead would be surprised if he could find a single speck of dust on them. “Betty, you look exhausted! You could have just cancelled if you weren’t feeling up to tonight.” 

“I’m fine, V,” Betty replies, giving her friend a weak smile. “Just adjusting to this whole motherhood thing.”

“It is quite an adjustment,” Veronica concedes. She looks through into the living room, where Carrington, her four-year-old daughter, is flying towards them. “Speaking of which,” she says, giving them a sideways smile.

“Aunt Betty, Uncle Jughead!” the toddler yells, wrapping her arms around Betty’s legs. “You haven’t been here in so long!”

Betty grins and scoops the toddler into her arms, spinning her around. Carrington shrieks with laughter, and once Betty places her back on the ground, she wraps her arms around Jughead’s legs.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says fondly, ruffling her deep auburn hair. “Sorry we’ve been MIA; your cousin here has been pretty time consuming.”

“What’s MIA?” the toddler asks blankly.

Jughead laughs. “Missing in action.”

“Is that my granddaughter?” comes another voice from the living room. FP walks around the corner into the foyer and his weathered face lights up at the sight of Jughead and Betty. 

“Hey mama,” he greets Betty, pulling her into his arms. “You holding up okay?”

“We’re fine, FP, thanks for asking,” Betty replies, giving her father-in-law a reassuring smile. The deep bags under her eyes are especially pronounced at the moment, and Jughead wonders whether or not they should have forgone dinner after all. He, at least, had gotten a quick power nap before heading over.

“I hope my son is fulfilling enough of his fatherly duties,” FP says, walking over and clapping Jughead on the back.

“He’s the glue holding me together right now,” Betty replies, winking at Jughead.

FP bends down in front of Samantha. “Hi, beautiful girl,” he whispers to his granddaughter. He takes the carrier from Jughead. “You guys relax, I’ve got little miss here.”

“Thanks, FP,” Betty says gratefully. Jughead steps forward, wrapping his arm around Betty’s waist.

At that time, Hunter, Archie and Veronica’s one-year-old, crawls into the foyer, looking around for the commotion.

“What are you doing in here?” Veronica asks him fondly. “Your father is supposed to be watching you. Archie? Did you forget about your son?” she calls into the house. “I swear, just wait until you guys adopt another kid. The second one makes all of the difference.” She misses the amused look between Jughead and Betty while craning her neck for her husband.

“Sorry, Ronnie,” Archie tells her, walking into the foyer. “The Bills are driving down the field right now.” He scoops the dark-haired one-year-old into his arms and walks over to Betty and Jughead.

“You two look like crap,” he tells them good-naturedly, giving Betty a one-armed hug.

“Good to see you too, Arch,” Jughead says wryly.

“Everyone’s here except your mom, Betty,” Veronica says, leading them into the living room. FP and Fred Andrews are sharing one of the two couches, Samantha already out of her carrier and nestled in her grandfather’s arms.

“That’s a good look for you, Dad,” Jughead says, giving him a crooked grin. He flops down on the other couch next to Archie, and the two Andrews children play on the floor in the living room in front of them. 

“Betty, want to help me finish up with dinner prep?” Veronica calls to her. 

“Sure, V,” Betty replies, walking through the open doorway into the large kitchen.

Jughead briefly wonders whether or not Betty’s stomach can handle the smells of the kitchen at the moment, but he’s quickly distracted when Fred begins to speak to him.

 “So, Jug, how’s fatherhood?” the older man asks, giving him a slight grin.

“Great,” Jughead replies. “Minus the whole ‘no-sleep’ thing.”

“She looks like she sleeps great,” Archie says, eyeing the small form in FP’s arms.

“Yeah, during the day she sleeps like a champ,” Jughead replies dryly. “It’s during the night that it’s an issue.”

“Any time you and Betty need a break, you know where to find me,” FP says, offering a bottle to the slowly waking two-month-old. She immediately takes it and begins chugging the formula down. “She can eat, can’t she?”

Jughead smirks. “She’s a Jones. Of course she can eat.”

At that moment, Alice Cooper enters the living room from the foyer, placing her messenger bag down by the couch. “Sorry I’m late. Got caught up at the office.”

“On a Sunday?” Jughead asks, but Alice ignores him.

Alice is filling in at the Register for Betty and Jughead while they adjust to parenthood. Jughead plans on starting back at least part-time during the upcoming week, but he suspects that Alice will insist he takes more time off once she finds out Betty is pregnant. He has a sneaking suspicion that Betty’s mother has enjoyed coming out of retirement more than she admits.

“How’s my girl?” she asks, sitting down next to FP on the couch, gently stroking the nursing baby’s head.

“Hungry,” FP laughs. “I’ll hand her over once she’s done devouring her dinner.”

“Hi, Mrs. Cooper!” Veronica calls into the living room. “Would you like a glass of wine? And do you want a beer, Jughead? Your wife is being a killjoy.”

Jughead laughs nervously. “I’m good, V, thanks,” he calls.

Veronica walks into the living room, stepping over her children to pass Mrs. Cooper a glass of white wine. Betty is behind her, looking a bit pale. Jughead raises her eyebrows at her, asking if she’s ok, and his wife gives him an almost imperceptible nod.

“I’m going to give the chicken a few more minutes in the oven and then we can go to the table,” Veronica tells them. She sits on the arm of the couch next to Archie, watching Carrington do her best to play with a not-interested Hunter.

Jughead glances at Betty and cocks his head. To him, now seems as good a time as any, and he asks Betty’s permission to begin the conversation. She gives him a slight nod and walks around to sit next to him on the couch. His stomach lurches.

“Hey, guys,” he begins, his heart hammering rapidly against his sternum. “We were going to host this dinner at our house tonight, but as it turns out, this whole parenting thing is really hard work, so Veronica swooped in and saved the day. So, thanks for that, V.”

“Any time,” Veronica returns. “I’ve been in your shoes, you would have done the same for me.”

 “Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Archie adds absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the television.

“Well, we really appreciate it,” Jughead continues. He puts his hand on Betty’s knee. “We have something we’ve been wanting to tell you guys.”

“ _Oh my God_ ,” Veronica interjects loudly. Her kids look up curiously. “You guys are adopting another baby!”

“No,” Jughead laughs. “Not at this moment, anyway.” He glances down at Betty to see if she wants to tell everyone their news, but she looks up at him, her smile giving him permission to continue. “We have no idea how it happened, and all of the doctors keep telling us it’s a miracle, but Samantha is going to be a big sister. Betty is pregnant.”

The room is totally silent for a fraction of a second, and then it bursts into jovial chaos. Veronica breaks down into tears, throwing herself onto Betty. Archie stands up, pulling Jughead into a giant hug, and Alice sits in stunned silence on the couch with a disbelieving grin on her face while Fred and FP stand up to congratulate them.

“This is absolutely insane,” Veronica cries, feeling Betty’s stomach. “How did I not notice this? Oh my God, you are going to be the cutest pregnant woman ever, B.”

Betty hugs Fred, FP, and then her mother, wiping tears off of her face as she goes along.

“Did you do another round of IVF?” Alice asks her. “I would have helped pay for it, Elizabeth.”

“No, Mom, no IVF,” Betty says, a big grin on her face. She glances at Jughead, positively glowing at this point. “Just some luck, I suppose.”

“How long have you known, Betty?” Veronica asks, picking up Hunter and placing him on her hip. She still has tears shining in her eyes.

“Since the day we picked up Samantha,” Betty laughs. “I hadn’t been feeling right so I took a pregnancy test on a whim and voila, and then immediately afterwards Jughead came home to tell me that we finally had a baby waiting on us that wouldn’t fall through.”

“This is incredible,” Fred says, smiling between Betty and Jughead. “You two never stop surprising me.”

“We apparently never stop surprising ourselves,” Jughead replies dryly.

 “So, sorry we’ve been missing for a couple months,” Betty continues apologetically. “Being first-time parents is hard enough without the debilitating morning sickness I’ve been having. Jughead has really had to step up around the house and parent while I’m busy dying in the bathroom.”

“This is something else,” FP says, glancing down at the once again sleeping infant in his arms. He pulls Jughead into a one-armed hug. “You two really go big or go home, don’t you? Congratulations, boy. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

Carrington has finally caught on to the conversation and walks up to Betty, her brown eyes wide. “Aunt Betty, do you have a baby in your tummy like Hunter was in my mommy’s tummy?”

Betty smiles and kneels down to the toddler’s level. “I sure do, Carrie. Do you want to touch it?”

Carrington reaches out and gently touches the gentle swell of Betty’s abdomen. She looks up, delighted. “Is it a girl or a boy?" 

“We don’t know yet,” Betty replies, pushing the small girl’s auburn locks out of her face. “What do you think it is?”

“Hmm,” the four-year-old says, pondering the question seriously. “I think it’s a girl.”

“Two girls, huh?” Betty asks, glancing up at Jughead’s panicked look. “I think Uncle Jughead might be a little outnumbered with three women in the house.”

“Shit, the chicken!” Veronica exclaims, running into the kitchen.

“We don’t say that word, Mommy,” Carrington calls after her, causing the living room to burst into laughter.

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours later, Jughead and Betty pull back into the driveway of their home. Samantha has long since been asleep in her carrier, and Betty has also managed to fall asleep against the window of the SUV’s passenger seat during the short drive home. She appears so peaceful that Jughead hates that he has to bother her.

Creeping out of the car, Jughead carefully removes Samantha’s carrier from the car seat dock and goes inside to change her and place her in her crib for the night; Betty had fed her dinner earlier at Veronica and Archie’s. He returns to the car for his wife, who is still slumbering peacefully. Opening the door to the passenger seat, he carefully strokes her golden hair before she slowly wakes.

“Sorry, Juggie, I must’ve dozed off,” Betty says groggily. She smiles up at Jughead and his heart swells with love. To this day, it is still mind boggling to him that this beautiful woman agreed to be his wife all of those years ago.

“That’s okay,” he tells her, stepping back so she can get out of the car. She glances into the back seat and looks up curiously at him when she sees Samantha isn’t in the car.

“She’s already in bed,” Jughead says, grinning. “I thought I’d let you get a few extra minutes of sleep.”

Betty wraps her arms around him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she sighs. “I’m sorry for relying on you so heavily these past couple months, Jughead. I promise I’m trying to get my life together.”

“Betty, you’re literally growing another human inside of you,” Jughead laughs. “And taking care of a brand-new one. That’s too much for anyone to go through alone. I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine. That’s how this works.” 

Betty stands on her tiptoes, planting a kiss on Jughead’s cheek. “Thank you. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Jughead Jones.”

“Well I’m glad you think so, Betty Jones,” Jughead says, a smile tugging at his lips. He takes Betty’s hand and leads her into the house. “Now, let’s go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Earlier you promised me you would make me feel better,” Betty replies, rounding on him once the front door is closed behind them. She pushes him back into the door and slips her hands under his shirt, raking her nails teasingly over his abs.

Jughead groans and leans down to capture his wife’s mouth with his own. He slides his tongue against her bottom lip and Betty moans. 

“You sure you’re feeling up to this?” Jughead asks her. He runs his hands up her sides and across her chest, feeling his pants tighten against him as he goes along. Racking his brain, Jughead can’t remember the last time they had been intimate with one another. It had occurred once, maybe twice, since bringing Samantha home, and this was certainly the least it had ever happened since Betty’s cancer treatments all of those years ago.

“Yes,” Betty murmurs, running her hands through his hair as Jughead continues his assault of her jawline, neck, and collarbone. “I want you, Juggie.”

Together, the couple makes their way back to their bedroom and they show each other _exactly_ how much they love and appreciate one another.

And, for the first time since coming home, Samantha sleeps through the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to drop a comment :) 
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @elsaunfiltered


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